


White walls, empty bottles, firsts

by isobel__smy



Series: Malec Advent Calendar 2017 [8]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Dead Alec Lightwood, First Christmas, M/M, Magic, Tears, Upset Magnus Bane, lightwood-bane family, serious angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-19
Updated: 2017-12-19
Packaged: 2019-02-16 23:53:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13064802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/isobel__smy/pseuds/isobel__smy
Summary: The one with a heart broken Magnus





	White walls, empty bottles, firsts

The wall in front of him was white. He could still remember the day they’d painted it. Alexander, in true Alec form, had decided that they weren’t going to do it with magic, but instead actually paint it by hand. Magnus had protested at first; you never attempt to paint the walls of your house, especially when your two helpers are children, but it had ended up being pretty fun. And successful. Except from that little patch nearly the left hand corner by the top. Magnus refused to look at it.

It would be a reminder. 

As if he needed a reminder today. It was already bad enough. 

Taking another glug from the bottle in his hands, Magnus carried on looking at the white wall. He had been doing it for the last three hours, ever since he’d woken up- having passed out on the sofa amid the plethora of empty beer bottles the night before. Sitting, drinking, not thinking.

He blinked, putting down his bottle and picking up a new one. The alcohol was numbing the pain, and although he knew Alexander would hate him drowning his sorrows in these bottles… Alec would never know. Could never know. That was the whole problem.

Alec would never know anything ever again. Never again would Alec listen to Magnus complain about annoying clients, never again would Alec wear that blue shirt just because he knew Magnus loved it. Never again would he roll over in bed and smile at Magnus with that adorable sleepy smile and whisper ‘Merry Christmas, babe.’

“Papa.” The voice broke through his hazy thoughts, and Magnus sluggishly turned his head to face his son. Max stood in the doorway, tiny red flames licking up his fingertips and a small frown on his lips. “I’m here to invite you to family dinner. Turns out I’m going to also have to cut you off... No more alcohol.” That got to him. 

Standing up, Magnus stumbled a step closer to Max. Everything spun around him, but he didn’t care. The less clarity he had over his thoughts, the less likely it was for him to remember. “I’m allowed alcohol. I’m an adult. I’m also your dad.” He bit the words out, hoping they’d hurt Max just enough to get him to back off.

“Yeah, but…” Frown increasing in size, Max shot Magnus a pitying look. “Dad wouldn’t want this. Come on, Magnus. Get it together, and then come to christmas dinner with the rest of us where I can pay attention to you.” It burnt, this coddeling. Magnus was centuries old, he didn’t need a baby sitter. He certainly didn’t need his son to baby sit him. 

“Leave me alone,” Magnus replied, turning around and making his way back to the couch. Everything around him was still slightly fuzzy, but the rage boiling up inside of him was turning everything a little bit clearer. He didn’t sit down, but didn’t turn back round to look at Max- who hadn’t moved. “Leave me alone, Maxwell.”

The door slamming behind him shook Magnus to the core. He knew, deep down, he wasn’t being fair. Max had lost his Dad at the same time Magnus had lost his husband, and he too would be feeling terrible today. As would Rafael. But that didn’t mean anything to him at that second; Magnus was red hot angry. It licked over his skin like his magic, tingling painfully. How dare they try and cheer him up? How dare they suggest that Magnus wasn’t allowed to drink himself into oblivion?

The cup thrown against the wall smashed without Magnus even noticing. Next were two half empty beer bottles, and that did cause Magnus to look up. It was oddly satisfying to see the white wall ruined, as it was to see the smashed glass scattered across the floor. He could feel his magic itching inside of him, and he let it take another bottle. 

Bottle after bottle all ended up smashed against the wall. Beer, wine, vodka all mixed together. Magnus could feel the burning tears streak down his face, and he could feel the scream that was tearing out of his throat, but as long as he kept smashing things he was distanced from it. He just couldn’t- he couldn’t allow himself to think too much. Violence worked as a way to forget. It almost helped. 

But now he’d run out of bottles, and he was sitting in his living room. His breathing was heavy, and he felt as if he’d just finished running a marathon. Everything hurt. There was the taste of blood in his mouth, his nails had dug into his palm, and his magic was fizzling out. Soon he was going to crash a serious low. Hopefully one big enough to knock him out. 

Magnus let his legs give out, sitting down suddenly on the sofa. He landed on a bottle that had been missed, so Magnus picked it up and threw it against the wall, but it didn’t feel the same. Something had changed. The anger had been sorted out. It was gone, but something had to replace it. 

Just as Magnus was about to stand up and move to the bedroom- where he was hoping to sleep for the rest of the year- he caught sight of a picture. It was in a frame, and had obviously been knocked off a table in the frenzy. Magnus recognised it immediately; it was from their wedding. Everyone was there. Jace, Isabelle, Clary, Simon, Catarina, Tessa, Max and Rafael… Their smiles shone out brighter than the sun. As did his and Alec’s.

A small whimper escaped his lips. The anger was gone, but here was something much worse. Magnus carefully put the picture on the table, and took in a shaky breath. 

Oh- god. 

This was actually it. Magnus’ first christmas in years without Alec. It wasn’t a bad dream, and it certainly wasn’t something Magnus could ignore anymore. Alexander- Magnus’ Alexander- was gone, and now it was Christmas and he was still gone. And there would never be another Christmas with him ever again. 

Magnus was alone. He was alone, Alec had left him, Alec was actually gone, and the apartment was so empty. The decorations hung sadly, sparkling in the dim lighting mournfully. There was no joy to be had. Alexander was gone.

Another whimper left him, falling feeling into the cold air in the apartment. Alec would have thought to turn the heating on, but he wasn’t here so now it was cold.

Oh- god. Oh god, it hurt. It really hurt. It clawed at his insides, spilling blood with every vengeful cut. He could hardly breath, overwhelmed by the pressing hurt squeezing his chest unforgivingly.Was he ever going to be okay? Magnus felt as if he could die from the pain, and there was no comparison. His soulmate- Alec- had been ripped away from him too soon, and now there was nothing left. Hope had died. 

“Alec-” he called, because he had too. His lover’s name hung in his throat, choking him with every thought. But the name disappeared into the air with no reply, and Magnus still couldn’t breath. “Please…” he whispered. Magnus didn’t know what he was asking, or who he was asking. All he knew was that he just had to ask it. 

But no one replied.

And no one ever would.

**Author's Note:**

> First, can I just say: sorrrrrryyyyyyyy
> 
> I… I had to do at least one that was angsty. I just had to. Writing angst is fun- and it is sometimes good to read some angst as well. It makes the fluff seem even better. 
> 
> I hope you guys like it :)
> 
> Comment below if you did.... Or if you want to yell at me.
> 
> (Again- sorry)


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